


Succession

by dafna



Category: Peep Show
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-23
Updated: 2009-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-05 02:50:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dafna/pseuds/dafna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sophie has a baby, Mark has a video camera and Jeremy has a Polish girl. Follows the 6th series finale.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Succession

**Author's Note:**

  * For [voltaireontoast](https://archiveofourown.org/users/voltaireontoast/gifts).



> Thanks to soupytwist for the beta.

“The hospital was built in the early 1980s, a period of time in our history that your generation will no doubt refer to as the Dark Years, but your mother wanted to go private and this was one of the cheaper …”

“Mark, what on earth are you doing?”

“This is your uncle Jeremy, back before he lost all his hair.”

Jeremy rolled his eyes as Mark continued filming.

“And over there is the water fountain where uncle Jeremy’s friend Super Hans was sick. Hans undoubtedly died in an incredibly irritating and ridiculous manner sometime after you were born, but this is his video camera I’m using. Or rather, the video camera he handed me right before he started vomiting everywhere. Knowing Hans, he probably lifted it from somewhere I don’t want to know about.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be filming, like, Sophie and the baby?”

Mark put down the camera and glared at Jeremy.

“I’ve been banned.”

“Banned?”

“Sophie’s horrible father arrived about 10 minutes after the baby was born and kicked me out.”

Jeremy nodded sympathetically. “Rough, man.”

“So I got to endure that whole horrendous drive – thanks for singing ‘Having My Baby’, by the way, that improved the mood no end – and then hours of Sophie threatening to cut my bollocks off and then a really horrifying 30 minutes that looked like something out of that scene from _Alien_ and then when it was finally over and I was hoping to maybe try and convince Sophie that she should _not_ name our son after her obnoxious suckup of an ex-boyfriend, her dad showed up and threatened me with legal action if I didn’t clear out immediately.  And then I ran into Super Hans, who said you had rung him to come round. Why, I have no idea – oh no, please tell me you didn’t ask him to bring drugs. And where the hell did you bugger off to, anyway?”

Jeremy lifted his eyes to the ceiling and whistled, aiming for an air of nonchalant cool that made Mark want to announce to the entire hospital that Jez had once stuck his knob in cement that was not nearly as liquid as he thought it was.

 “I was getting you a coffee, like I said,” Jeremy said, nodding his head earnestly. “And then I started to chat up this girl next to me, and she said she was here visiting her sister, and then one thing led to another and, well, you know how it goes, dude.”

Mark glared back. Typical Jez. Ten minutes in hospital and he cops off. Mark has unfortunate intercourse with his ex and winds up with a lifetime of maintenance payments and the prospect of being an even bigger disappointment to his son than he was to his parents.

“Her name’s Claudia,” Jeremy continued. “She’s Polish, but she has like a proper job and everything.”

He stopped bouncing up and down, appearing to notice for the first time that Mark was actually, you know, there.

“Hey, cheer up, mate,” he said, clapping Mark on the shoulder. “You’re a dad! Here, I’ll have a go, shall I?”

Jeremy picked up the camera and directed it at Mark.

“OK, you’re a new dad, you’re filled with hope and optimism and all that great shit about life suddenly having meaning, and flowers smelling better and so on, OK, here we go.” Jeremy pointed his other hand at Mark. “And … action.”

Mark smiled nervously. “Dear son, it has now been,” he checked his watch, “two hours since you arrived on this earth, and your mother and I are very …”

Jeremy lowered the camera and shook his head, sadly.

“What?” asked Mark. “That’s fine. I’m being parental.”

“Dude, you want to be a cool dad, right?”

“Jez, I know we’re filming this now, but this will not actually be the first thing my son sees of me.”

Jeremy sighed. “OK, good point. Well, try and look cool, anyway. Oh hell, never mind.” Jeremy had turned the camera away from Mark and was filming something behind him.

“Unnamed Corrigan-Chapman boy-baby, the woman with that scary look in her eyes is your aunt Sarah.”

Mark spun around to see his sister stalking toward them, as Jeremy continued to narrate.

“Do not believe anything she tells you about me, baby, I was really pissed and she took advantage of me and it was totally not my fault that I didn’t call her the time before that.”

“Mark, where’s Sophie?” Sarah had her arms folded and looked impatiently around, as if Mark might produce mother and child from behind the large potted plant next to reception.

“Sarah, why are you …” Mark exchanged perfunctory kisses with his sister. “How did you …”

“Dad rang me.” Of course he did, Mark thought. One call to tell his parents that the Corrigan genes had made it to another generation and now he had to deal with Sarah and Jeremy, each eyeing the other with the look that rival animals got at the zoo.

“Sophie’s dad kicked Mark out,” Jeremy said, apparently deciding to throw a large fish at the bear and run the other way.

“He what?! Mark, come with me.” Sarah grabbed Mark by the shirtsleeve and began dragging him to the lifts.

“It’s fine, Sarah,” Mark said. “I didn’t really want to stand there while he told the entire nursing staff about how I abandoned Sophie after the wedding and that she should really have married Jeff, who at least wasn’t a total arsehole. I mean, he is, obviously, but Sophie’s dad likes him, god knows why. Well, maybe because he doesn’t have a roommate who tried to sexually molest his son, but you know, that wasn’t _my_ fault, and anyway, it was years ago.”

Sarah continued to ignore him as the lift door opened, and dragged him down the hall to where Sophie’s father was standing, talking on his mobile.

“Right,” she said, “what’s this about banning your grandson’s legal guardian?”

Mr. Chapman glared at them. Mark tried to edge away, but his sister was really remarkably strong for someone with such bony fingers.

“Mark is _not_ Ian’s legal guardian,” he said, stabbing his phone in their direction.

“We’ll see about that,” said Sarah as Mark said, “Wait, who’s Ian?”

“Ian Chapman, your son,” said Sophie’s father. “Named him after me, she did.”

“What?” Sarah lifted her hand off Mark’s shirt in order to wave it at Mr. Chapman. Mark seized the opportunity to escape and ducked into the hospital room.

Sophie lay in the bed looking out the window. Mark looked around but didn’t see a baby or anything that the baby could be hiding under. Unless that pile of sheets on the floor near the … no, probably not.

“Soph, hi.”

She turned her head. “Oh, Mark. Hi.”

“Where’s the baby?”

Sophie waved her hand in the direction of the door. “Off being measured or weighed or something. I don’t know.”

“Oh.” Mark perched nervously against the wall. “So, um, ‘Ian’?”

Sophie folded her hands in front of her still rather large stomach. Mark eyed it nervously -- this wasn’t like that nature documentary, was it? There wasn’t another one in there waiting to pop out, was there?

“Yes, Ian,” Sophie said. “You didn’t want Geoffrey and I’m not naming the child Simon or Bruce or Alan or any of your insane ideas. And Dad’s been a total brick.”

“OK, fine,” Mark said. True, he instinctively flinched whenever he heard the name Ian Chapman, but he supposed that would just make it easier when his son grew up and hated him.

He could always call him Bruce when Sophie wasn't around.


End file.
